


Dream a Little Dream of Me

by gaytectives



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Slow Dancing, Wedding Night, warning for sherlock and john being disgustingly in love i cant fucking take this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaytectives/pseuds/gaytectives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They rented out a massive hall for the reception, unwilling to handle any unexpected weather, and the criss-crossing strings of twinkling lights that crowd the ceiling emulate the stars that are usually invisible in London’s light pollution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream of Me

If asked, John would readily admit that when Sherlock had mentioned faerie lights as a wedding decoration, he had laughed. He hadn’t meant any harm, of course, and when Sherlock had gotten down and sullen about it he spent nearly an entire day trying to fix his slip-up.

It had just seemed like such a cliché - completely unfit for their wedding, but he’d given in as soon as he saw how much it meant to Sherlock, just as he’d immediately given in to the idea of a ridiculous number of green carnations, and _over a hundred guests_.

Of course, he’d just as readily admit that he was completely wrong. They rented out a massive hall for the reception, unwilling to handle any unexpected weather, and the criss-crossing strings of twinkling lights that crowd the ceiling emulate the stars that are usually invisible in London’s light pollution.

They’re well into the reception now, most of their guests chatting comfortably amongst themselves, resting at their tables. Only a few other couples are still dancing, crowded off to the side for the most part, leaving the majority of the floor to the newlyweds.

John isn’t sure if Sherlock is even conscious anymore; he’s hardly made a sound in half an hour, face nested comfortably against John’s temple. It’s got to be nearing ten at night and John himself is dead on his feet, but completely unwilling to relinquish the night. It’s been the best day of his life and he won’t let it end just yet, despite the fact that they’re practically rotating in place rather than dancing.

He shifts his damp palm against Sherlock’s and lets out a soft, content sigh. He tilts his face up and presses a kiss to Sherlock’s face. He hasn’t opened his eyes, but he can feel Sherlock smiling, cheek brushing against his own.

“We’ve hardly moved from this spot, you know,” John murmurs. He brushes his nose against Sherlock’s cheekbone sweetly.

Sherlock hums in reply, mirroring John’s affections.

“You tired, love?” John asks. He knows there’s no use in pulling away to get a look at Sherlock’s face, but he opens his eyes nonetheless.

“Exhausted,” Sherlock exhales. John chuckles softly. “Absolutely shagged.”

“Mm, not yet,” John says, grinning. Sherlock snorts lightly and John pulls him just a bit closer.

“Does consummation of marriage still count if it happens the morning after?” Sherlock teases.

“You say that now - just wait ‘til I get you home.”

“I have very high expectations.”

“As you should,” John agrees. He can see Sherlock grinning from the corner of his eye, and he definitely has not kissed his new husband within the past twenty minutes, which is entirely unacceptable. He tilts his head and nudges Sherlock gently, first kissing the corner of his mouth so he gets the idea. A little pleased noise sounds in the back of Sherlock’s throat and he kisses John’s bottom lip, already pressing his tongue into John’s mouth.

Their vague ballroom swaying ceases altogether while they kiss, too exhausted for things to get even remotely heated. John’s hand splays in the small of Sherlock’s back, holding him close, while Sherlock’s hand curls lightly in John’s, knuckles gently brushing against John’s tuxedo jacket. Sherlock’s curls have come a bit unraveled and they tickle John’s forehead.

John can feel his heart welling up with emotion and he pulls away in slight, eyes watery. He smiles up at Sherlock, whose cheeks are rosy and eyes teary just like his own, and kisses him again chastely.

“Never liked weddings much,” John says.

“Have I changed your mind?” Sherlock asks.

“I think you might have,” John admits. The music changes and a grin spreads over John’s face. “ _You_. I love this song.”

“I know,” Sherlock says, practically beaming. He squeezes John’s hand gently and starts swaying them again as John’s head rests against his shoulder.

John hums softly with the music, letting Sherlock lead him because he absolutely enjoys it more than John does. The faerie light stars lend to the tune and John can’t help but sing a few lyrics just loud enough for the both of them to hear, lifting his head to nuzzle beneath Sherlock’s jaw.

“ _Stars fading but I linger on, dear_ ,” he sings, smiling, “ _still craving your kiss_.” Sherlock laughs quietly and hugs him closer, and John kisses his neck softly. “I love Sinatra, you know,” he says.

“I know. Who do you think chose the music?”

“Mm, how sweet of you.”

“Although Ozzie Nelson’s original recording of the song, in my opinion, is far better than Sinatra’s,” Sherlock says. John rolls his eyes. “Unlike most of his songs, there’s a certain disinterest in the content - ”

John pulls back to look Sherlock in the eye. “Sherlock, love?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Sherlock blinks at him, then smiles as John leans in to kiss him again.

 

 


End file.
